


Remember Me?

by FruHallbera



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amnesia, Assassins & Hitmen, M/M, Minor Violence, hitman hux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:54:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22755088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FruHallbera/pseuds/FruHallbera
Summary: Kylo Ren can't remember what has happened to him - he has a scar on his face and he's living with his parents again but no-one's telling him why- until one night there's a mysterious but oddly familiar redhead at his door.Originally published in Twitter, as a fill to the fandom prompt game suggestion: Hitman/Mark, bitter exes but amnesia (the mark doesn't remember!)
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 8
Kudos: 76





	Remember Me?

"Can I help you?"   
  
The redhead leaning against the doorframe doesn't answer but a small crease appears between his eyebrows. He’s tall and lean, with high cheekbones and full lips. He’s dressed in a slate grey suit and black shirt, strictly speaking not fancy enough for this evening’s festivities but seeing as Kylo himself is currently sporting a ratty tee and a pair of sweatpants well past their sell-by date he can’t really make any comments about anyone else’s choice of clothes. Kylo gives the man a once-over, appreciating the view. The nondescript grey sets off the bright red-gold of his hair and the stubble almost long enough to be called a beard. Kylo can’t see his eyes but he _knows_ in a way he can’t explain they must be green-grey, changing colour with the light. There is power to his body despite the obvious thinness. Kylo is reminded of a coiled spring or a big cat preparing to pounce on its prey. 

He thinks that in his previous life his previous self would have been putting on his best game to woo the pants off that fine specimen but the current version inhabiting his body merely shrugs. "The toilet's down the hall and to your left." Kylo picks up his e-reader and tries to find his place on the page, leaning back on the pillows propped against the headboard of his bed, expecting to hear an apology and retreating footsteps. 

Downstairs the party is going strong. Sophisticated, soft jazz mingles with laughter and clinking of cutlery and glass. The noise grates on Kylo’s nerves. He’s tired and that makes focusing difficult. He frowns at the reader and puts it carefully down before turning his head to level a glare at the man still hovering at the door of his room. "Seriously, buddy, you've got the wrong room. If you're looking for a place to fuck in, I recommend finding a hotel. This is not a frat house." 

"I don't need to piss or fuck." The redhead seems truly offended at the suggestion. His voice is both strange and familiar at the same time and that annoys Kylo even further. "I came for you." 

"Yeah, well, I've done partying for tonight. Try again later." Kylo flops back on the pillows closing his eyes and sighing as pointedly as he can. The redhead had better take the hint and make himself scarce. Kylo has always had a temper but it’s hair trigger nowadays. And since he has been trying to work out his frustration and rage at the gym – and Kylo has enough rage in him to fuel a small city - the twig-like creature trespassing in his space will be lucky to leave with his teeth still attached to his skull if he insists on bothering him. 

Kylo’s eyes snap open at the sound of the door closing and footsteps approaching his bed. He scowls at the redhead who twists and shakes his right hand, as if trying to dislodge something stuck in his sleeve. Kylo takes a deep breath. His mother puts up with a lot of shit when it comes to her son, especially since the _incident_ , but having a meltdown during the most important house party of her social calendar could very well end up in Kylo being tossed out on his ear. He tries to center himself, counts to twenty and manages to tamp down the rising storm. 

"I suggest you get the fuck out of my room," he growls, rising to his elbows. The redhead regards him coolly, tilting his head to the side. He stands with his feet wide apart, hands at his sides, looking relaxed but obviously preparing to fight. 

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Ben. Like I said, I came for you." 

"Ben?" Kylo snorts. "You've definitely got the wrong room. There's no Ben here. My name's Kylo." 

Confusion flickers across his guest's face. He recovers with a shake of his head and takes another step closer. Kylo exhales, flexing his fingers. Rage is his constant companion these days - maybe it always was, even before it all went to pieces and he lost half of his life to fog and confusion. Leia would know but Kylo hasn't asked. He likes to think that there was - is, will be - another kind of existence for him than this. 

Living in his mother's house, in his old room, surrounded by things and sounds and people he ought to remember and know, battling frustration and anger until tears flow and he ends up breaking something precious. His life feels wrong, somehow, even with his amnesia taken into account. Too large, too awkward, too angry. There’s something people aren’t telling him, something vital about his persona and past he cannot access alone but he is certain that he is not the man everyone insists he is. 

Kylo swallows hard and bites his teeth together. If the redhead won't take the hint and leave soon Kylo knows he will become the next thing to be crushed under his fists. He's crept closer and is now staring at Kylo's face, eyes wide and mouth open. 

"Jesus fuck, Ben, what happened to your face?" The clipped, crisp accent he had before slips and becomes softer, lilting and something Kylo associates with – with – it's right at the edge of his mind, infuriatingly out of his reach. That does it. Kylo's e-reader drops to the floor when he surges from the bed, grabs the intruder by his ironed collar and keeps the momentum going until Red is pinned against the wall and Kylo would push him right through it if he could. 

Something sharp nicks the skin of his neck. All traces of confusion and surprise have vanished from the redhead's face. His eyes are narrowed and his lips pinched and Kylo knows he ought to be afraid because that look on that face spells danger on some primal level Kylo can't identify. As usual he can't make himself stop. It must be a knife Red's holding on Kylo's throat and he's actually cutting the skin now. Kylo feels something warm trickle down his neck and seep into the collar of his tee. Good thing he's wearing black. 

"Back off," Red growls. "Or I'm forced to deviate from my plan and I don't like wasting a good strategy." 

"What plan? All the valuables are downstairs and trust me, no one's gonna shell out any money to save my sorry ass." 

Red presses the blade another millimeter into Kylo's flesh and brings his face close enough to share his breath. Kylo can smell his cologne, a subtle, foresty scent and - _pale skin under his hands, a soft gasp, the heat of a kiss_ \- Kylo shouts and tosses the redhead violently to the floor. His knife clatters under Kylo's bed when Red lets go of it to brace his fall. Kylo kicks him and grabs a chair, brandishing it between them. 

"Who the fuck are you? What are you doing here? Who sent you?" His voice rings in his ears shrill and panicked. 

Red rolls away from Kylo, twisting in a way that should be impossible for a human body to execute and suddenly he's on his feet again and holding a new knife he had stashed away god knows where. "Who I work for is between me and my client and you can drop the "Kylo" act." Red crouches down, his eyes never leaving Kylo. "You know fucking well who I am." 

"Tell me who you are!" Kylo shouts, lifting the chair. 

"Stop fucking about! I KNOW you know me." Red looks a bit uncertain, though, searching Kylo's face. "Except I don't think that you're lying." He lowers the knife and straightens up slowly. "It's me. Hux. We used to be- We knew each other, long ago." 

Kylo sets the chair on the floor but doesn't let go of it. "We used to be what, exactly?" 

"Friends. Lovers." Hux passes a hand over his eyes and grimaces. "Fiancés." 

"You lie," Kylo exhales, glad of the support of the chair. "I'd remember if I'd ever been hitched." 

Hux shrugs one shoulder. "I'd prove it but as it is, I don't carry anything I could be identified with." 

"You lie," Kylo says more firmly. "If you'd ever been my boyfriend you'd never had gotten past my mother." 

"I have my methods." This time Hux moves both of his shoulders. "It took me quite a long time to track you down, you know. I never would have pegged you as someone moving back under your parent's roof." 

"Yeah, well. Not like I had much of a choice. Don't do that well on my own." Kylo sits heavily back on his bed. He's exhausted and his head hurts. If Hux is here to kill him he will just have to wait until Kylo has rested a few minutes. He covers his eyes with his hands and tilts backwards until he’s on his back, legs dangling over the edge of his bed. He exchanges his palms to one of his arms, resting the crook of his elbow against his nose and wishes he could just fall asleep. 

"What happened. Be- Kylo?" 

"It's a long story and I remember only some of it." 

The chair legs scrape on the floor when Hux presumably turns it around and sits down on it. "I've got all night." 

"What happened to us? If what you say is true." 

"Well. You know. Life got in the way of our happiness. We grew apart as people and decided to pursue our lives separate from each other." 

Kylo opens his eyes and removes his arm to look at Hux. "Bullshit." 

"We met, we fucked in all conceivable ways, we got the rings. Then you got a new fancy job and I my father saw to it that I never got one of any description. Let's just say that we consciously if unamicably uncoupled and leave it at that." 

Kylo mulls this over. What Hux is saying doesn’t feel untrue or wrong – he has a well-defined instinct for these things now. "That job - I think it was that job that happened to me." Hux doesn't say anything so Kylo plows on. "I can't remember the details but people say I got hurt trying to get away. That the corporation was more like a cult than a workplace. That I had gotten too deep - I don't know. Maybe it's true. I remember waking up in a hospital with my head all patched up and everyone walking on eggshells around me." 

Hux hums and leans back on his chair. "It certainly fits - fuck, I shouldn't be doing this but since none of this won't matter in a few hours - yeah, it was your job at Snoke's that drove us apart." Hux rests the point of his blade on the chair between his knees and twirls it, a hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "But what they tell you about how you got that impressive scar is a lie. You weren't trying to get away. You were staging a coup." 

Kylo barks a laughter. "He sent you, didn't he? Snoke?" 

"Yeah." 

"Fuck." 

"Indeed." 

Kylo flops back on the mattress and grins like a maniac. His brain is throbbing with a steady ache he knows won’t abate for hours and his scar is itching but for once he can’t bring himself to care. "Were you always, you know, a hitman?" 

"Back when we were an item?" 

"Yeah." 

"No. My grand plan was to live off your money. Be a kept man. Pretty on your arm, that sort of thing." 

"And an ordinary job didn't appeal?" 

Hux lets out a short, mirthless sound. "With no education or contacts all I could hope for was either something in retail or in the backseat of a john's car. No thanks. This suits me far better." 

"How much is he paying you to kill me?" 

"Enough for me to take the job." 

Kylo looks at the ceiling, lacing his fingers together over his stomach. "And do you have a deadline? I mean, does Snoke know you are here now?" 

"He gave me a job and he knows I don't dawdle." 

"I see." 

Silence stretches out between them. Kylo counts Hux’s breaths, listens to him play with his knife. "You don't dawdle," Kylo says eventually, letting go of his fingers and stretching one hand towards Hux, craning to look at the redhead sitting by his bed. "So that would give us, what, until morning?" 

"Us?" Hux raises an eyebrow but a twitch of his lips belies his amusement. 

"Yeah, well, my mind may not be what it used to be but I'd say Snoke will put a price on your head when he finds out you let me live.” 

"What makes you say I will do that?" 

"Because I will offer you half of the First Order Holdings and my arm to be pretty on if you agree to help me." 

Hux’s laughter rings out in the room. "Brave words for someone who doesn’t remember who I am or if even half of what I'm saying is true!" 

"Oh, there's an easy way to confirm that." Kylo assures him and gets up with some difficulty, turning to his side first and resting for a moment before hauling himself in sitting position. He holds out his hand at Hux, wiggling his fingers. “Come with me." 

"Where are we going?" 

Kylo stands up on only slightly wobbling legs and crooks his elbow to offer his arm to Hux. He takes it after a moment's hesitation, curling long, elegant fingers around Kylo’s forearm. The knife has disappeared somewhere and Kylo decides he’s better off not asking where it went. 

Together they walk downstairs, past people in their best suits milling about snacks and champagne in hand, to a small but imposing woman at the far end of the living room. She turns her face up in surprise at the approach of her son and the uninvited guest clinging to his arm. 

"Mother? You remember Hux? My ex-fiancé?" Kylo asks, fervently hoping she won’t rouse questions as to why he’s referring to Hux by his surname only. 

"Armitage! So nice to meet you after all this time!" 

Hux's muttered greeting goes unnoticed when Kylo bends down to peck a kiss on Leia's cheek. "We're just popping out. Don't wait up.” 


End file.
